


Rise of the Felidae

by Pentaphobe



Category: Catwoman (2004), Catwoman (Comics), Catwoman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), DCU (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Female Character of Color, Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-05 08:45:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4173453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pentaphobe/pseuds/Pentaphobe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While the origins of this new figure in Gotham are a mystery, it is all but too clear that she's going to be making her stamp on the city. Maybe even claim it for her own. Gotham has always been a dark place. She thought to might as well make it a little bit more fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This catwoman is based off adaptations that mix and muddle from Earth Kitt, the backstory of the comic universe's as well as the backstory of the 2004's movie to some degree. Promptly fell in love with the ideas of her, so please feel to ignore all this.

[9 am at the Gotham Police Precinct]

An office came was coming in for his shift. Typical yuppie, blonde hair, blue eyes wearing his blues but he had long bandages stretching along his face. He filled out the check-in clipboard, greeting some of his colleagues with a smile, "Hey Amy," grimacing at the pain from whatever happened to his face. "Ouchies," the red head woman mirrored his pain. "Had a rough night?" He nodded. "Yeah, fuckin' new masked shithead on the street. How's the house looking. The precinct was how it typically run, overwhelmed and overstaffed with too many people in the holding cells even at this time of day. As much as he loved his work, for once he wished he could have called out the day. "SSDD," she replied.

Amy waved by as he went ahead to his station, nursing on his plastic cup. He benched himself in a desk across from his partner. Bernie Sanders, a jolly fellow, with a big smile a belly that was the only thing holding his uniform together, his jacket already off from reporting to desk duty. He was sicilian, naturally deep tan despite the dreary weather despite the morning. He looks up at his partner, seeing the bandages and the sour expression made a grin spread across his face.

Bernie didn't even wait for his partner to sit before he committed. "Shiiit, Jones. What the hell happened to your face?" He had been there, seen the incident go down. "Looks like Griffin tried to use your face for a manicure." Adam Jones just gives a Bernie a scowl as he takes his time setting down in the chair. He had taken a fall last night as well while giving chance. "Ha ha, very funny. Is that what you say whenever Daryl kicks your ass at the gym?"

It was all in good fun. The man just grins, running a hand through his salt-n-pepper hair. "Least I go to the gym. Scrawny ass couldn't make it up them stairs though, could ja?" Sanders reached to his left. He tossed the day's paper onto the desk, depicting the cat-themed bandit Jones had a run-in with the night before.

Sanders folded his hands behind his head. "They're already got a name for 'er."

Jones dragged his fingers through his hair. "Fucking hell.."

"Calling her Catwoman," Bernie snickered at the hiss from the man when his hands accidently came down to touch his face. "Christ..!"

Bernie shuffled his chair sideways as he leaned back in his chair, his feet propped on the desk while Jones took a long inhale of his coffee. "Jaguar, depending on the paper. Looks like we got a new masked face on the street." Knowing Adam's opinion on their masked vigilantes, he expected the outright look of disdain. Like the coffee burned his tongue, but he knew Adam liked his coffee piping hot. There was something else. A rant on coming.

"Like, we honestly need another one?" Adam began sifting through paper work, closed case files with obvious disinterest. "All its doing is makin' our job harder.

"Tch! You mean makin' it easier." Bernie plucked his unfinished bagel up from off his desk to slide into his mouth. "You actin' like are neighborhood masked pro ain't a good guy."

Adam sighed, "So, he takes down some bad guys? Big whoop. Don't mean he's right." Bernie peered over at his partner incredulously. "He's workin' outside of the law, Bernie."

All at once, Bernie sat up from his lounging position. "Don't you even pull that shit with me, Jones. Half the nimrods in this place work outside of the law, and I ain't even talkin' about contacts." Sanders popped an accusing finger at his partner's directions. "And you know it too. Batman ain't never hurt any of us."

"What about Murry and Fallon?" Jones retorted.

"Bernie waved him off. "You know they weren't worth a damn." It was true, but he had to give the counter. "Batman don't hurt the good guys, Adam."

"Batman is a psycho who runs around on rooftops in a fuckin' bat outfit Bernie. Come. On."

Regardless, Bernie took pleasure in his long time's friend's frustration. He didn't want to argue. Not when he was still bruised up from their run in. "Yeah? What about our new cat girl?" A long drag was taken from his mug, before Jones replied pointly. "Same goes for her.  
Bernie grinned, rolling his eyes. "Sure wasn't complaining enough to let her get her paws on you, bambino."

An even long drag was taken at that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get the introductions going.

[ A few months later]

From across the way, there was a series of black SVUs making their way off towards the intersections where the East End ended and the little preppy parts of town seemed to merge. It wasn’t exactly the prettiest area, but it was a lively one. Fit with many shops and stores that made due with their little slice of heaven. Turning a corner and doing around a few blocks, you got to the nightclubs which were prepping for the evening’s entertainment.

One such spot was the Iceberg Lounge, a gentleman’s club on North Avenue with a bright, electric blue sign that stood overhead of the entrance. It was swankier than the average, run-down place but that didn’t necessarily keep it come the attention of those who frequented the place. Like any business, it catered to all, indiscriminate of whose dollars it took, so long as they kept their hands off the girls and their dollars were certified by united states. 

It was partnered with quite a few around the whole of Gotham itself. Bon Apetite was apart of the East End family, not too far from the Iceberg actually. Quite a few girls swapped back and forth here to there. 

There was Glacier Kiss in the pretentious district that got little trouble, until the other night. That mysterious cat figure that had surfaced almost going on a year had snooped into the main officer while Fifield, the manager of the establishment, hadn’t been paying close enough attention to the security surveillance. The minx had rigged the system to give her a fifteen minute window to pick the locks of the place’s safe and make off with all of the private stash that had been visible, particularly the diamonds and gems there.

The search thus far for her by his own men had been fruitless. Ever since, she’s either been laying low or had retired with the plentiful lump sum that his ridiculous subordinates had practically handed her.

The Penguin’s ire had been ignited and a bounty had been placed on the woman’s head. She wanted alive, brought to one of the man’s many doorsteps. 

“Have we gotten any leads on this Catwoman?”

“Nah, not any I’ve heard of, boss. Just the same as the police report from saturday.”

“Useless lot..” He growled beneath his long, hooked nose, a nasally breath escaping him as he exited the SVU with a usually, wobbling gait. Stout as he was, only five two and well over a hundred and seventy pounds, it was the reason he was gifted with his namesake. That and the deathly pallor he had from the umbrella he pulled up to shield himself from the sun peeping through the rainclouds.

“Have you figured which of the girls is available for that gala thing the fast heads on the high seats are throwing?” He grumbled, his cane clinking in time with his dress shoes against the pavement. The man that followed him in toe in his own suit, a hand gently brushing over his short hair. Cobblepot caught him and give him a swat at the ankles. “Don’t touch your hair. Ain’t buy that suit to get your dandruff everything, boy.”

“Yes, sir -- and no, I was going to do that today. Tonight, I mean. But, with the schedules, ya’ know.. that one girl, the pretty red-head, Maggie? She looks fit for it.”

Cobblepot scoffed, “I hate redheads.” 

* * *

It was raining cats and dogs on the streets of Gotham. People were making a dash for across the streets, mostly those who didn’t care to watch the news before they woke up. Deciding that it was better to take chance than to see whatever unfortunate events plague the prior evening or the days that had passed.

A woman with a short curly cut came down the streets with a red umbrella. She wore a trenchcoat over a cream colored dress, it had a beige design to its chest, crossing like a flower. A smile was playing across her face hearing the conversation that was struck between the vender and many of the people in front of her. They crowded to escape the rainfall under the vendor’s large tarp. The leisurely pace wasn’t minded at all.

“I swear, it’s like we get more’a these boso’s each year.”

“More like each month.”

The woman shuffled, her shoulders as she pulled her bag up so she could begin combing through it. It was more for show really as she found some spare change. Now was just rifling through her bag, messy and filled with makeup, extra candy, a wrap in seran wrap, some other things. The purse was a tool with infinite depth.

“Gotta hand it to ya’ though, ain’t expect that cat chick to hang around for that long.”

“What makes ya’ say that?”

Her gaze lifted. _Oh, do tell._

“Ain’t shit here but rain, fuck-ups, rich dicks, and orphans.”

“S’true. But, lookit us guys.. and gals.” She noted to him, speaking herself and a woman that joined in on the conversation. They made room for her to come up to the stand. Only wanting a pack of gum, a juice and the newest paper.

Speaking of the other woman, she spoke up. Shyly. “I think she’s quite courageous. Heard from the girls on the north side, she helps the kids on the streets.”

Clear disbelief in the one man’s voice, almost disregarding her. “Yeah, right.”

“Not much to steal since she hit that place under the Chesterfields, not that I approve -- but, she wouldn’t have to. Makes since that she would lay low after the big haul.”

The man scoffed, “Whatever, sweetheart.”

So, she spoke up. Her voice loud and clear through the rain. “It’s true, I work as volunteer down at the shelter, kids been coming in saying they’ve been brought some new clothes. and shoes by some cat chick at night.”

He stumbled by her square look, but shrugged. “Maybe.” She giggled at his expression, before turning her eye to meet the woman. The inclusion appeared to have its impact. The woman smiled softly at her, before looking out towards the cabs. Waiting for one to come along the roadside. She inquired about just how much she owed the vendor. He grinned at her, “Ain’t nothin’ but a thing, Patience. Go on, there’s a muffin there for ya’. Surprised me by not getting your favorite. Don’t worry about it, can grip me next.”

“You’re a doll, Phil. Man after my heart.” The older man brushed a hand over his balding head. His brown complexion made it hard to see any sort of fluster, but she knew it was there. “Ay, don’t say that, I might have to buy a ring.”

It only made her giggle as she went to go about her way. The woman looked ready to head out to a cab and Patience came around next to her. “Hey, you need some cover. Your hair looks gorgeous and I’d hate to see it drop because of some stupid rain.”

The woman was startled at the compliment. She was african american as well, her hair was styled in an up-do with curled bangs coming down along her temple, the ponytail of curls that came down as well stylishly splaying outward along her neck. “R-really?”

“Yeah, so good. Makes me wish I hadn’t cut mine.”

The woman smiled at Patience, before accepting the walk along with the umbrella.


End file.
